by Sever Bronny
Bridget gave Augum a sympathetic look before following.
“Well I thought it was a good question,” Leera whispered as she passed.
They walked the narrow trail all day, stopping at lunch, debating the map, and practicing arcanery. When they resumed, the day darkened due to heavy cloud cover that moved swiftly overhead. Snow tumbled as the winds raked the tree canopy, the shwooming noise making it difficult to pick out other sounds, forcing them to stick even closer together.
The march continued league after weary league. Sometimes one of them would spy a winged shape in the forest, though often it was an owl or raven.
Augum’s feet ached and his shoulders were numb by the time they broke through the trees. Before them was an upward-curving lip of exposed rock and dirt. The path wound northward around this wide feature.
“This has to be it,” Haylee said, blonde hair peeking out from within her fur-rimmed hood.
Bridget kept her distance. “What is it?”
“Let us see,” Mrs. Stone said, scaling the lip, Augum and Leera following.
When he looked over, he saw a massive round hole the width of a small village, as if made by a gigantic worm long ago. He couldn’t see the bottom without getting precariously close, however, something he was unwilling to do in these winds. Regardless, it was a sheer drop. Trees curled over the edge like rows of shark teeth.
Mrs. Stone retreated, staff prodding at the snow. “It appears to be an ancient sinkhole.”
“As long as nothing comes out of there, I don’t care what it is,” Leera muttered so only Augum could hear.
Bridget withdrew the map. “Now we know we’re headed in the right direction. The next destination is some type of rectangle.”
Leera snorted. “The big black circle on the map turned out to be a big black hole. Maybe the giant rectangle will be … a giant sarcophagus.”
“I don’t get it,” Haylee said.
Leera slowly gestured a rectangle. “You know, because they’re the same shape …?”
Haylee blinked. “Oh.”
“Never mind.”
The path wound around the edge and dipped back into the forest, beginning a steady but gentle incline. Bare-branched mountain shrubs began making an appearance as the trees shortened until they were stunted versions of the behemoths left behind leagues ago.
Hours later, hungry, tired and cold, they stopped at a windswept rocky plateau offering little shelter other than a few giant boulders, one of which they setup camp behind. The clouds dipped so low here they often blew at ground level, zipping by with the unceasing winds.
“We are at the base of the Muranians,” Mrs. Stone informed them, trotting off to encircle the camp with protective enchantments, robe flapping.
Meanwhile, the foursome erected the tents against the boulder and chipped out a fire pit from the ice. When it came to wood, the task was near impossible as the windswept plateau surrendered barely more than a few twigs. Luckily, Mrs. Stone saved them the labor by shuffling off into the swirling mists to arcanely gather more.
The foursome spent the time preparing the inside of the tents, making them as cozy as possible, until Mrs. Stone returned with enough wood to start a small fire. Supper consisted of roasted pork, rice, journey bread, and melted snow. By the time they finished eating, the wind had snuffed out the fire and they all retreated to their fragile hide homes.
Mrs. Stone peeked outside and shook her head. “Augum, please grab the blue book on arcaneology and let us join the girls.”
He happily did so and the pair scuttled around the dead fire. Night had come early, the wind at a constant howl. Definitely not an evening for outdoor activity.
The girls’ tent was larger, sparing just enough room for everyone to sit in a tight circle.
“This is a perfect opportunity to study and practice the arcane discipline,” Mrs. Stone said once they had all settled in. “I considered taking you to the 3rd degree training ground again, but I thought you might find this a little more comfortable.”
The foursome nodded, faces etched with relief. Nobody seemed in the mood for an arduous training session.
“First, let us quickly touch upon elemental arcanery. Historically, warlocks tended to war with each other often, much more so than today, which is why we can expect elements to be full of war-like spells. Of course, there were many more warlocks in olden times, but that is another matter altogether—”
“What happened to them?” Augum asked.
“Many killed each other off in duels, some were recruited for war, and some were sought for extermination, deemed as threats. It takes a long time for a warlock to advance in degree, and the great majority hit their ceiling early on. Combine that with commoner superstitions and you have reason for there being so few of us in number. But I believe the single greatest cause for the decline of warlocks is the Leyan decision to withdraw from the world. They shared their knowledge with our academies and allowed our apprentices to visit them in Ley for special training sessions. Since that stopped, our way has slowly been dying out.”
“What about—”
“If you do not mind, Augum, I would like to continue my lesson.”
“Sorry, Nana.”
“Now, elemental spells are as arcanely malleable as standard spells. You will have noticed Shine and Slam are relatively the same for all warlocks, distinguished of course by the warlock’s element. For Shine, your hands light up with different colors and there is variety in your extensions. For Slam, Augum’s sound is lightning, Bridget’s is the breaking of a massive tree, Leera’s is that of water crashing, and Haylee’s is the cracking of ice, like that of a great glacier splitting in half. As you progress in your degrees, however, you will become aware of your element branching further and further away from other elements. It is this individuality that becomes your strength. Embrace it and do not be afraid to experiment.”
She motioned for Augum to open the blue book. “Since we are in close quarters, let us practice and learn standard spells that require no maneuverability—”
She abruptly stopped as the ground began shaking. Everyone exchanged anxious looks. The tremors got much worse in a very short time, followed by a terrible roar.
Mrs. Stone’s eyes widened. She hurled herself outside, shouting an arcane phrase—just as the roaring reached them.
Everything instantly went black.
Change in Fortune
“Is everyone all right?” Bridget asked in the darkness.
Augum felt himself over, finding no injuries. “Fine,” he said, quickly echoed by Haylee and Leera. “Shyneo.” His hand lit up electric blue, revealing all as it was. But there was one thing that felt amiss—it was suddenly too quiet, when before there was a howling wind. The look they exchanged was one of utter bewilderment.
They quickly piled out of the tent to discover Mrs. Stone standing outside. Augum immediately understood why the silence—they were in a giant shimmering blue bubble preventing packed snow from crushing them to death. It protected both tents and part of the rock face.
“It must have been an avalanche,” Leera said in an awed voice, approaching the bubble. Augum recognized the spell—it was the same one Nana had used to save the trio in Sparrow’s Perch, only much larger.
“I am afraid it was,” Mrs. Stone said, rolling her staff between her hands in thought. “This presents a bit of a challenge.”
“What do you mean, Mrs. Stone?” Haylee asked, voice quivering a little. “Can’t we just teleport out of here with our stuff?”
“Not through a Sphere of Protection, my child—but we have a greater worry.”
They stood there gawking at her. What could be worse than this?
She turned to them. “If we do not find a way out, we will run out of air.”
“So after everything we’ve been through,” Leera muttered, “it’s snow that ends up killing us …”
“All right, all right,” Bridget began, flailing her arms as if they were on fire. “
Nobody panic, let’s just think our way through—”
Leera’s brows rose. “Who said anyone was panicking?”
“It is best to remain calm,” Mrs. Stone said. “Excitement will only hasten our demise.”
Sounds like she’s been through this before, Augum thought.
Bridget paled.
“Bridget’s brothers once buried her in snow a little too long,” Leera said. She grabbed Bridget’s arms. “Here, just sit down and relax.”
Bridget nodded. “Yes, good idea …”
“What if we dug our way out?” Haylee asked, aiming the question at Augum for some reason, as if he had all the answers.
He just shrugged, looking to Mrs. Stone. “Would that work, Nana?”
“Perhaps, but the spell mechanics trouble me. Let us say I dispel the sphere, what would happen?”
He glanced upward, the snow lit blue by his electric palm and the bubble. “The snow would come crashing down on us?”
“Indeed, we must assume that will be the case. Further, we do not know how far we have to dig. I can dispel the bubble, but will I have enough time to cast a spell before the snow overtakes us? Group Teleport takes too much time, so that is well out of the question. Only Battle Teleport has the speed necessary, but it only works on the caster.”
“Battle Teleport?”
“It is an almost instantaneous and, for someone such as I, nonverbal extension of Teleport. The problem with Battle Teleport is the distance of travel is rather short. Further, one runs the risk of appearing inside an object if one does it in an unfamiliar area.”
Bridget looked around like a trapped animal.
Leera crouched down across from her, placing her hands on her shoulders. “Bridge, how would you like to start packing the tents?”
She stared at Leera a moment before nodding slowly. “I … I can do that …”
“What about Telekinesis, Mrs. Stone?” Haylee asked as Leera helped Bridget begin. “Can you not move the snow out of the way?”
“We do not know how much snow is above us. Even I have my limits, and if the weight is too great …”
“What about melting it?” Leera asked from inside one of the tents where she was helping Bridget pack.
“It may be worth trying.” She reached up to the sphere and her hand began to glow. After a short while, she stopped. “It is as I suspected—the Sphere of Protection prevents access to the snow.”
They kept throwing ideas at each other until the tents were packed. Augum began to feel light-headed by then.
Haylee took a deep breath. “Mrs. Stone, what if we were frozen in animation or something while you dug us out? I know there’s a necromancy spell that can make that happen, mostly used for sacrificial purposes …”
Mrs. Stone stopped pacing. “Now I daresay that indeed may work. I do know of an off-the-book spell called Loterain’s Limbo, but I have not used it in some time.”
“What would that do?” Augum asked.
“You would, if I am not mistaken, stop breathing and go into a kind of stasis. Mind that you would still be conscious, but to all outward appearance, have no sign of life. However, it can be quite … uncomfortable … to be trapped in your own body.”
Bridget breathed rapidly. “You mean … we’d be buried alive?”
“Essentially, yes. Hopefully not for long though—I would teleport to the surface and immediately begin using Telekinesis to dig you out.”
Bridget shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do this …”
Leera gave her a gentle hug. “We’ve gone through worse, Bridge. You can do this.”
“We don’t have a choice anyway,” Haylee said, “unless we think of something better.” She began moving their packs against the rock. “Mrs. Stone, we’ll stand here at the base with the gear. You can dig your way down using the face of the rock to find us.”
“An excellent idea, Haylee.”
The foursome lined up with their backs to the rock, holding their rucksacks, breathing quick shallow breaths.
Mrs. Stone gave a small nod. “Let us have luck in this endeavor.” The scion hummed a little louder, as if sensing arcanery coming. She approached Leera first. “Close your eyes, child.” She then placed one hand on Leera’s forehead and the other on her chest. “Cunodeo val xen lotereano.” Leera instantly went rigid while Mrs. Stone moved on to Bridget, who squirmed and shook her head, breaths coming in rapid bursts.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Mrs. Stone, please …”
“Close your eyes, dear child.”
Bridget winced and shut her eyes tight.
“Cunodeo val xen lotereano.” Bridget froze, still wincing.
Mrs. Stone moved before Haylee, who had already shut her eyes. Soon she, too, turned into a statue.
“Great-grandson, are you ready?”
“Yes, Nana.” He closed his eyes.
“Cunodeo val xen lotereano.”
It was very unusual to have all his senses dulled, as if he had become nothing more than pure thought. Distantly, he heard an implosive crunch and then felt a dense pressure squish him from all sides, until finally equalizing. That had to be the snow.
It was difficult to focus. His thoughts kept drifting as if in a dream. He wondered how Bridget was faring, and hoped Mrs. Stone would get to them soon. Time seemed irrelevant, and he couldn’t figure out how much of it had passed. Centuries, perhaps.
Finally, he heard a distant scratching and felt his body move, but he couldn’t tell in which direction. Feeling suddenly overcame him as if a dam had burst. He opened his weary eyes, shaking from the cold. There was a fire before him, a blanket draped around his shoulders. His thoughts were too slow for a world that seemed to move very fast. He tried to speak but his voice slurred.
Mrs. Stone finished waking up the others. They sat side-by-side against the trunk of a tree with low-hanging evergreen boughs that moved with the wind. Other stubby trees stood nearby, swaying. The fire was small but ample, the night dark.
“I am too tired from my arcane exertions to teleport you all to a sheltered place,” Mrs. Stone wheezed. “You were buried deeper than I had imagined. I daresay it took me a long while to find the right rock even.”
“Where … are … we?” Leera asked, teeth chattering.
“Not far from where you were exhumed.”
That word caused them to fall silent a moment.
“So… cold,” Leera eventually said.
“Concentrate on getting warm and try not to speak. I shall scavenge more wood.” Mrs. Stone left them to sit by the fire, disappearing behind the tree they sat against. Moments later, there came a distinct clicking noise straight ahead. A child-sized old woman with bird feet and wings waddled into view, haggard face hissing quietly, large hooked beak swinging back and forth. The harpy’s head swiveled around as if looking for Mrs. Stone. It then steadily approached, testing one foot before the other.
“Mrs. Stone … help …” Leera mumbled while Augum, Bridget and Haylee moaned feebly.
They could now smell its putrid stench as it finally realized there were no protective enchantments. It shot forward like a child eager for its toy, crooked beak snapping, giving the fire a wide berth. Its black eyes focused on Augum as its maw opened up—only to bite down on Mrs. Stone’s staff.
There was a loud electric crack and the harpy squawked as it flew backward, slamming against a tree. Mrs. Stone stepped between it and the foursome, staff at the ready, scion humming. The harpy picked itself up for another charge, but this time Mrs. Stone raised her palm and shot forth a bolt of lightning, instantly exploding the creature in a burst of feathers.
“Quite a nuisance they are,” she said, adding a few more sticks to the fire.
Suddenly the scion flared with multiple bursts of silent lightning. She drew it close, level with her face. Her eyes narrowed. “It happened again. Something is wrong. It feels a pull of some sort.” She scanned the trees. “But how can that be …?”
“What’s �
�� going … on?” Augum managed to ask, finally able to move a little. He dragged himself closer to the fire so he could warm up quicker, Bridget, Leera and Haylee doing the same.
Suddenly there was a great implosive crunch. A hairless man appeared before them with shiny black skin that faded to matte almost instantly, and eyes like two chips of coal, fading to brown. He wore dark brown pants and a loose-fitting wine-colored shirt, unbuttoned in the middle, revealing a muscular chest. Two curved blades hung from each hip.
“Oba Sassone—” Mrs. Stone said.
Augum felt bumps rise on his skin. Oba Sassone was a Leyan and somehow he had teleported right to their location. Because Leyans lose their long life spans immediately upon setting foot back in the mortal world, he knew Oba would start aging over the next couple of days before dying before their eyes.
“Krakatos the Ancient use portal cube,” Oba said in his deep voice. “To mortal world he send Oba.”
Augum distinctly remembered Krakatos as the oldest and wisest Leyan. He also recalled that the portal cube had to be wielded by an expert warlock for it to have any precision.
“Short time is, Anna Stone. Message Oba has—”
“Oba, you must return—”
Oba shook his head slowly. “Exiled Oba is. Prince Sydo Ridian tell Lord of Legion Oba help younglings escape before his death. Discover this Magua did. Fate Oba accepts. Oba only ask Anna Stone to take Oba home to Nodia when time come. There Oba pass to the warrior lands in peace.”
“I regret I fail to understand—”
“Only message Krakatos sends important—forge divining rod Magua did. Scions it find.”
“Impossible …”
“Krakatos say you know scion feel different now. Scions Leyan artifacts, this Anna Stone understand—”
“—yes of course, but how can—”
“Magua teach Dreadnought how make special artifact—divining rod.”
